


White Flag

by alternativehoneytea



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Doctor/Patient, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternativehoneytea/pseuds/alternativehoneytea
Summary: Ever had no plans to stay in Pelican Town long. Catch his breath, flip the house, pocket the money. More bus tickets and less problems. But the local doctor complicates things.
Relationships: Harvey/Original Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Bad Dreams

**Chapter One: Winter’s End**

“I think he could use a place like this.” Kent Westing’s voice was soft but firm. Commanded attention regardless of volume.

Kent looked at Doctor Harvey Saunders and then at the steam rising from his mug of hot tea. Harvey furrowed his brow and scraped a hand across his face, scratching the stubble that had come from the sleepless nights he had been grappling with recently. He had just finished a particularly miserable flu season and was just now feeling like his head was above water. George had a particularly difficult bout of it and the responsibility of caring for him had put a constant drain on the town physician for the last two weeks.

“I’m not saying he couldn’t.” Harvey began, adjusting his glasses, “but there isn’t a lot here for somebody without a support system in place. You had a family here when you came home last winter. Your wife. . . your kids. There was something to hold you down. If he’s really struggling,” Kent’s eyes turned steely and Harvey added firmly, “and I believe you when you say he is, he needs his family. He needs someone to look after him.”

Kent’s mouth was a flat line. “You don’t think I said the same thing, Doc? He’s been in the wind since he was sixteen. He could have gone to jail or gone to war.” He heaved a sigh, “I still don’t know if he made the right decision. But something’s got to give. His letters are concerning. I’m not sure what to do for him. . .”

Harvey had seen the letters, crumpled in front of Kent on the desk. The address was a halfway house in Zuzu City. He had only skimmed them. Nightmares. Fears of hurting others. Never able to stay inside for too long without being able to catch his breath. _What a way to live._ Harvey knew that a steady pump of fear put unimaginable strain on people. Hearts weakened. Health declined. And that was without addressing all the risk factors that came with mental illness. He must be in agony, Harvey thought.

Kent looked on expectantly. He knew when he had the doctor. He would never turn somebody in need away.

“You said he’s not interested in talking to anybody?” Harvey looked over a blank medical record. Corporal Wooding. First name: Ever.

“You could change his mind.” Kent offered encouragingly, holding Harvey’s gaze, slate gray on emerald green and Harvey felt the look pierce him. “You changed mine.” Kent added softly.

Harvey watched the snow fall softly out of his office window. A tiny green sprout poked determinedly through the snow in his window planter. Resilient. People were the same way. He couldn’t treat the young man here. He’d have to go back to the city for that kind of thing. But he could talk to him about his options. Examine him and ensure that otherwise he was physically healthy, even if his mental health was as deteriorated as Kent suggested.

“I’ll talk to him if he comes in, Kent.” Harvey forced a smile.

Kent was typically reserved, but six months of counseling had done wonders for him. He clapped Harvey on the shoulder and beamed. “Thanks, doc. I appreciate you. He’s a good kid. Just rough around the edges.”

“Hmmmm.” Harvey processed Kent’s description as he walked Kent to the exit.

Darkness was already falling, but spring would be here soon. Harvey rolled his shoulders as he hung the sign-in sheet on the wall and flipped the light switch as he headed upstairs. He needed a shower and some sleep. Maybe he would feel more optimistic in the morning. It suddenly settled upon him that tomorrow was the Feast of Winter Star. The weight that he would be spending another holiday alone was heavy on his shoulders. The heaviness remained after the hottest shower he could stand, but the weight of Harvey’s eyes surpassed it eventually. As he drifted to sleep, he wondered where Corporal Wooding was sleeping tonight. Another halfway house, he supposed. Harvey hoped it was warm. . .

* * *

_It was always the same dream. And maybe a part of Ever knew it was a dream, but the white hot fear took over and that’s all there was._

_The fear and him._

_“Stay down!” The shout was muted in the rain of bullets. Ever could barely process the barrage of sounds and gunsmoke and the metallic sticky scent of adrenaline. He gripped his gun, palms slick, and chest heaving. Something had gotten fucked up. They were stuck, they were stuck. Looking around, it seemed as if the ground had fallen out from underneath him. His comrades regarded him with glass eyes and slack jaws. He was alone and a continuous scream rang in his ears. He was free falling into hysteria. They would come for him here._

_He was in a foxhole._

_A grave._

“Yoba! Shut the fuck up!” The left side of Ever’s head exploded in pain and lights flashed in his eyes even though the wide gymnasium was pitch dark. Cold rage doused the flame of fear and he came up swinging, catching the shadow with an uppercut that made its jaw click. The shadow dropped like a sack of potatoes.

A flashlight glare bounced quickly from the other side of the gymnasium and shone first on the silent lump on the floor and then directly into Ever’s face. He held up a hand to block the blinding light and sighed heavily. He knew how it looked. Lunatic busts innocent bystander in the jaw because of a bad dream. He was six foot even and solid muscle. He was lean and mean, and the jackass in the floor was paunchy and five eight on his tip toes. He was scooping his worn duffel bag off the floor and lacing his boots before the floor manager could open her mouth. He jammed himself into his threadbare sweatshirt and the thump of his boots on the floor spoke for him. Thanks but no thanks. He could sleep somewhere else.

When he pushed the heavy backdoor of the gymnasium open, the cold hit him in the face like a wall. He remembered irritably why he had even attempted an indoor sleeping arrangement in the first place. It was below freezing. The abandoned building he had weathered the fall in was past drafty. Snow had collected on the floors, just as it had outside. This had been a difficult season. He knew if he wasn’t indoors he would freeze. But indoors, he absolutely smothered. He wore on the others everywhere he went and could he blame them? Kids slept in those places. . . Listening to him was already traumatizing without being a child growing up in a shelter. He could rough it.

His golden hair was long and wavy, framing his face. He typically pulled it back but had been trying to use it as an additional barrier against the cold. It had been shaved for so long that he had refused to cut it for the last two years. He also hated the hollowness of his eyes when his hair was cut. They were light gray and looked like the bottom of an old well when he caught his reflection. He knew it unsettled others. Good. The letter in the back pocket of his jeans nagged at him as he tucked his bearded chin into his chest and pulled up his hood. He could rough it. Or. . .

His feet carried him to the bus station before he had really decided that’s where he was going. By now it was around four a.m. and a few people with small children trickled into the station. What were they doing traveling? It was freezing, it was early. . . He saw the wrapped boxes and colorful bags. A little girl in a toboggan with a bright pink pom pom on top clutched a stuffed puppy as she slept on her father’s shoulder. The mother nervously dug in her coat pockets for tickets while the father waited calmly. He noticed Ever watching, and his brow furrowed. He positioned his opposite shoulder to face Ever and shielded his sleeping child and wife with his body. Ever considered smiling. He opted to nod shortly and looked away.

Oh. The sight settled upon his mental calendar and he felt like an idiot. It was the Feast of the Winter Star today. Thank Yoba. Winter was nearly over.

He tried to summon the name of his destination to his mind as he took a seat in one of the hard plastic chairs in front of the depot, positioning his long legs over his duffel bag for security. He doubted if left in the open anyone would bother after looking at him, but it was a habit he had picked up long ago. The rolling metal window was locked, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. His chin dropped to his chest but he never slept deeply. The hum of the bus station waking up for the day stayed with him while he dozed.

I _t’s been good for me. It’s slow here. Quiet here. Open. I think you could breathe. Here’s money for a ticket. . ._ The rattle of the ticket counter unlocking roused him. The attendant looked at him with a bored expression. He dumped the cash on the counter, the coins sounding cheery against the shiny resin counter. “One way. For Stardew Valley.” The sun came through the glass windows that wrapped the room. Somewhere outside a bus heaved to a stop, and there was the mechanical slide of the door opening. It had stopped snowing.


	2. Puppy Dog Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever didn't expect to need help so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for pushing forward with me!

  
**Chapter Two: Spring**

Kent eyed the dilapidated two story house with skepticism in his eyes. Ever could feel him assessing it but was much more entertained by how the mayor kept alternating between being utterly terrified of him and thrilled at the prospect of selling the old house and the plot of land it sat upon. I t was surrounded by forest and close to the lake. Cindersnap Woods was the address. There wasn’t a house number. It wasn’t necessary. The closest home was a bleak gray tower that the mayor had acknowledged as the Wizard’s dwelling when they were signing paperwork. 

“The wizard, huh?” Ever had drawled and Lewis had laughed nervously. When Ever held his blank expression, the mayor had begun fumbling through a box of records for the deed. Kent scolded Ever with his expression and softly kicked his chair with the toe of his boot.

“Buying your own place is a big deal, kid.” He warned, “I told you Jodi wouldn’t mind.”

Ever was hardly a kid at twenty-six.

And Jodi most certainly would mind. When Ever had gotten off the bus a few days before, Jodi had acted stricken as if Kent had hired a wanted murderer to live in their home. She didn’t speak to him at the bus stop as Kent clapped him hard on the back and unceremoniously slammed the bedroom door when they had arrived at the small house Kent shared with his family. - He heard their muffled bickering late at night- _ Kent, he has a  _ **_neck tattoo_ ** _ - _ from his bed on the couch and felt the uneasy stares of their sons. He touched the ink softly as he stared at the wooden rafters. Hell, it was a good piece. . . 

He spent the Feast of the Winter Star wandering the forest area nearby and that was where he had stumbled across the abandoned house. He had a lump sum of gold in savings which he used to make an offer on the home. Lewis had been terribly eager to sell and so the paperwork was drawn up quickly.  Lewis grinned beneath his bushy mustache as he pressed a folder of paperwork and a silver key into Ever’s hands.

Ever had no intentions of putting down roots here. But he could work with his hands and there was potential to flip the house. If he did it all on his own, paid as he went, he could sell by next winter and be on the road again.

And he wouldn’t lie. Kent was right. You could breathe here. The air was clean. There were birds and animals and the sky looked like Yoba painted it new every morning at dawn. Everything was green and fresh. He didn’t know if he had ever seen so much green.

So it was settled before he had time to make a break for the bus stop, and Kent trailed away, Lewis scurrying behind him like Ever would suddenly decide this was as good a time as any to do away with the good mayor. 

He unlocked the door and the creak of the heavy wood door suggested that the house had good bones. The shit here wasn’t like the buildings in the city that seemed to spring up every time he turned around. It was built with intention and just needed some TLC.

He observed the cobwebs and broken windows of the first floor and rolled the sleeves of a soft worn flannel up to his elbows. 

No time like the present. . . He had done work like this on and off for the last two years: plumbing, electric, repairs. Anything that could help keep him fed, inked, and able to buy bus tickets. This winter had been the hardest he had. He hadn’t seen a project in over two months and was eager for the satisfaction that came from fixing something broken. 

* * *

He hadn’t expected to run into a situation that he couldn’t fix without help so quickly. 

The spring breeze smelled sweet and was still cool through the open door as he wandered the home mentally noting repairs that needed to be made. He was just checking out the loft space upstairs (surprisingly generous) when the crunch of broken glass and a low animal whimpering pulled him out of his thoughts. 

He was down the creaking stairs like a shot and stopped to listen again. The kitchen? He hadn’t checked it out yet. He opened the door slowly and that’s where he saw her. 

She must have wintered here. A rail thin German Shepherd regarded him with eyes like melted chocolate. She raised her back leg as she skittered to the back of the room and into the pantry. She left a trail of blood behind her, her foot pouring blood. His eyes trailed from the rusty spatters to the pile of broken glass shards and the broken window over the sink. He recalled a pile of empty boxes stacked under the window. 

How long had she been coming in and out that way, clambering up the boxes and through the broken window?

Another familiar sound: puppy whining. Scratch that. Pupp _ ies _ whining. 

He crept to the pantry and discovered her holed up on an old jacket in the back corner where four tiny black puppies wriggled and whined. She peeled her muzzle back from her teeth in a snarl, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was hungry and tired.  Ever offered her his palm to sniff, warm and dry. Her nose was cold and wet as she sniffed, and she laid her head down on the old jacket bed staring into space as the puppies nursed. She was willing to share the space if he was. 

He shut the door as gently as he had opened it. He had some old clothing, a worn bag of toiletries, and some jerky in his bag. He went, got the plastic baggie of dried meat, and came back to her. He settled into the small pantry next to her (it was a tight fit) and fed her jerky by hand, piece by piece until it was gone. 

There was the issue of the cut on her foot. It was nasty and would get infected if he didn’t treat it. He needed antiseptic. He supposed it needed stitches as well, although he didn’t know where to begin there.  He thought to stop at Kent’s but then decided against it. Jodi had just gotten rid of him today. He was sure Kent was attempting to patch things up there.  He grimaced at the idea of heading into town. Kent had warned him that some of the villagers would not be deterred by glares and tattoos. Friendliness (curiousity bordering on nosiness) was as commonplace in small towns like these as sunshine, and he was not thrilled at the prospect of hitting the town. 

But he needed medical supplies. He rubbed his hand gently down her side, counting ribs absentmindedly. He was careful to avoid the pups. She was as sweet as she could be, but mamas had sharper teeth than daddies when it came to their babies. He had no interest in getting stitches himself. He looked at the dusty old jacket she had nestled her babies on, stiff with dirt and dried blood. 

Maybe a new blanket for them too. And some dry food. 

While he was looking. . .

* * * 

Harvey hummed cheerfully as he jotted Jas’s height down on her chart. Check-ups were a lovely change in the spring after the dreary misery of winter. Marnie beamed from her chair, talking a hundred words a minute as Jas smiled shyly at him. 

He hardly noticed the ringing of the bell, but jerked to attention when Maru’s voice floated from the front desk, entirely too high and formal.

“Doctor?” She called hesitantly and he lay the clipboard on the patient bed. He offered Jas a sucker, which she accepted happily, and took his leave. 

“Excuse me,” he smiled at Marnie and Jas, though Marnie never stopped speaking. He exited the room and was making his way down the hall when he stopped short.

Yoba.

Standing hunched at the front counter was a young man. Older than Maru, but younger than Harvey. He was dressed in worn boots, jeans, and a faded red flannel with bleach stains. His rusty golden hair was tied up in a loose knot, revealing a tattoo that trailed from his rusty beard down the right side of his neck past his collar. His face was flat and bored, hands in his pockets. There was a large paper bag next to him on the floor. 

He wasn’t taller than Harvey, who was thin and lean at 6’2. But he carried himself like he was much taller. Military? 

“Can I help you?” Harvey asked kindly. He had been born in the city and lived there until he was through with medical school. Maru had never been outside the valley. The man was intimidating, but Harvey had interacted with similar men before.

Maybe not as attractive. But still.

Neck tattoo. . . It dawned on him quickly the stranger’s identity. Jodi had complained endlessly since Winter Star, and Harvey hadn’t escaped the gossip rolling through the rumor mill.

Harvey strode forward, hand extended. “You must be Corporal Wooding. I know Kent and his family well. What can I do for you?” He kept things as light as possible. No doubt Wooding would be embarrassed to know how much of him Harvey already knew from Kent. 

“Just Ever.” The stranger’s voice was rough with lack of use and soft. He kept his hands in his pockets. Eyes roaming the room, cataloging each chair and corner. 

_ I can’t catch my breath indoors, Kent. It’s miserable. I feel like the walls are closing in. _

“Ever.” Harvey nodded and absently straightened his glass. Damn his nerves. 

Maru broke the awkward silence, “Doctor, Woodi- Ever- Ever needs some antiseptic and supplies for stitching. There’s a stray dog on his new property with a bad cut. Deep and wide.”

Harvey nodded purposefully. He avoided this type of work typically. But Marnie was sensitive to blood and so he had found himself occasionally stitching up her livestock. It was simple work as long as the animal was willing to participate in the treatment.

He dug beneath the counter for the metal first aid kits he liked the townsfolk to keep in their homes. 

“This will have everything you need, but are you comfortable with stitching? An animal can be tricky, especially an animal in pain. You may need an extra set of hands.” 

Harvey watched Ever weigh his options. He wasn’t an idiot. An extra set of hands could be directly translated into: How ready are you to potentially get bitten? It was a stray, which also meant a slew of things to look for after a bite, including rabies. It was interesting to watch his brow knit. He had an expressive face when he allowed for it. 

With a barely detectable nod, Ever turned and exited the clinic as quickly as he had come. He reminded Harvey of a big cat when he moved: smooth and muscular. With purpose. 

Maru stared at Harvey in shock as he took his green jacket off the coat rack on the wall, and he refused to acknowledge her stare until he had double checked the first aid kit for everything he needed, adding an herbal numbing agent. 

She mouthed, “What the fuck?” And he returned her wide-eyed gaze with a shrug and cleared his throat. He shrugged into his jacket and left her with the promise that he wouldn’t be long. 

He hadn’t noticed Marnie’s head stuck out of the backroom, eyes shining with anticipation of sharing gossip about the newcomer with the rest of the townsfolk.

* * *

The walk to Ever’s h ouse was devoid of conversation but the world around them was plenty to occupy oneself. Harvey could deal with companionable silence (if you could call Ever companionable as he walked a short distance ahead focused on the journey) and opted to soak in the lovely spring weather. He honestly didn’t make it out this way much.  Cobblestone paths turned into dirt paths which turned into no paths at all as they travelled further into the forest. The house came into view, but Harvey had been distracted. Ever’s flannel was loose but his jeans were snug on his calves and thighs. He wondered if they were as snug on his-

Harvey mentally chided himself.  _ Work, H. You’re working. _ He grimaced briefly and shook his head.

Ever glanced briefly over his shoulder at the doctor. The man shook his head briefly as if ridding himself of water in his ears. Weird. But he was also interesting. He seemed soft somehow with his dark wavy hair and emerald green eyes behind thin wire frames. He was a grown man with freckles, for Yoba’s sake. 

But as lanky and clumsy as the whole of him seemed, his hands were sure. They were large and careful, and Ever had observed him deftly checking supplies. And he didn’t fill up the lovely Spring air with small talk. Ever was silently grateful. Small talk was utterly agonizing for someone who just talking alone didn’t come easily to. 

The porch steps creaked as they entered the home and Harvey followed Ever into the dusty kitchen. There was a patch of floor that was cleaner than the rest and a garbage bag in the corner. The patch led toward the pantry from which emitted the sound of puppies whining and the soft thump of a tail on the wood floor.  When Harvey looked in the pantry he sucked in a breath. These poor babies had been born in this small, dirty closet when the snow was still heavy. The mama was obviously starving and stopped her tail thumping to regard him with curious eyes. 

He chuckled softly and moved slowly, lowering to his knees next to her, “Were you expecting someone else? Not to worry. He’s still here.”

She lowered her head and looked at him dolefully. He continued to murmur as he checked her from tip to tail for wounds. She had fresh cuts. Some old scars. Some consistent with being hit or kicked until she bled. Harvey was patient but had a short temper when it came to people who had no value for life, regardless of the form. There was a surge of anger and then it passed. Nothing to do but to take care of it. 

He stood up and brushed off his knees. He looked over his shoulder at Ever who was idling in the doorway of the pantry, his hands still stuffed deep in his pockets. His right hand had dark geometric patterns swirling into the cuff of his shirt, similar to those on his neck.  _ Hmmm. How far could this piece go- _

“They’ll need to come out of here. It’s filthy. It’ll definitely get infected if they keep living here like this.” Harvey spoke conversationally. Even if he struggled internally to maintain professionalism, he could absolutely maintain it on the surface. 

Ever nodded and eased past Harvey. It was barely large enough for one man and the dogs in the pantry. He brushed Harvey as he passed, and the doctor could smell faint soap and cedar. It wasn’t a chilly day, winter had passed, but Harvey shuddered regardless. His cheeks flushed heavily and he shuffled out of the closet quickly. He was glad the window was broken suddenly. There was a fresh flow of air coming in the suddenly tight space. 

Harvey was polishing his glasses on his jacket when Ever slowly tugged the old jacket out of the closet, cruising the mother and her pups along the smooth wood floors. Harvey settled in next to her, scratching her back.

Once the closet was cleaned, Harvey discovered the contents of Ever’s bag from town: a thick comforter and a set of bowls. Dry food. Wormer.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. Good. At least rehoming them wasn’t an issue for today. He had briefly considered his space at the clinic and knew it wasn’t suitable for a single dog, much less five. Ever delicately placed each puppy on the comforter in the pantry. They snuggled together for warmth and settled in quickly.

Stitching mama dog’s food was quick work. She laid her head in Ever’s lap as Harvey worked, and the man softly hummed a tune Harvey didn’t recognize. Harvey had cleaned and stitched the wound in under thirty minutes. He wrapped it lightly and went to the sink to wash his hands. The pipes groaned in protest and the water ran for several long seconds until it ran clear. 

“What do I owe you?” The question jolted Harvey out of the silence. It was as much as he had heard Ever say. Harvey considered. Now was as good a time as any.

“It’s on the house. I just ask that you come by for an examination sometime soon. I like to keep an eye on all of the valley residents and it’s easiest to start my charts in the Spring when things aren’t as hectic.” He wiped his hands on a handkerchief in his pocket.

Ever stood to watch the dog limp back into the pantry to sniff her babies. 

Harvey stared thoughtfully at his back, knowing that he was contemplating the request. Tight quarters. Personal space invasion. Questions he probably didn’t want to answer. Harvey knew this was probably the only way to ever get him to at least swing by. He seemed already like the type to only go out of the way for others. 

Ever sighed. “I’ll swing by before the season’s out.” He turned and watched Harvey collect his supplies to go. 

Harvey smiled genially. “I look forward to seeing you. By the way,” He crinkled his nose in a way that made Ever snap to focus, counting the freckles on the bridge of his nose, “Have you named her yet?”

Ever’s half smile was small but encouraging. The man could emote if pressed. “I’m honestly a little afraid to name them. That’s how it starts, you know.” He answered.

“Starts?” Harvey pressed him curiously.

Ever smiled and his eyes seemed a little less hollow. “The Pelican Town Animal Shelter.”

It warmed Harvey. He enjoyed coaxing others out of their shell. It came with the territory of constantly barraging his patients with personal questions. He left the the house quietly, leaving Ever crouched next to the mother and her puppies, murmuring to them gently.

* * *

That night as Corporal Wooding lay on his own new comforter and mattress on the floor of the loft, windows flung wide open so the breeze could reach him, he fell asleep to the mental image of large hands moving with slow surety. Stitch. Stitch. Stitch. In and out. In and out. 

Dark wavy hair and kind green eyes. 

Breathing slowly. In and out. In and out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What names do you guys like for the puppies and their mommy so far? :) I like Grizz, Murphy, and Cap for pups. I still need more though!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. <3


End file.
